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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29797335">the sneaking serpent walks in mild humility</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/h0neybeebear/pseuds/h0neybeebear'>h0neybeebear</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the marriage of heaven and hell [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Biting, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Cannibalism, Episode: s02e10 Naka-Choko, M/M, Morning After, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Spanking, Top Will Graham, Unsafe Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:08:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,674</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29797335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/h0neybeebear/pseuds/h0neybeebear</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You’re going to do as I say,” Will whispered. “The ball is in my court now.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Another act of reciprocity?” Hannibal’s voice was labored and breathless.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Call it whatever you want. I call it giving you what you deserve.”</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>“What do you plan to do with me, Will?” Hannibal asked, “If you plan on trying to kill me, you might’ve brought the knife.”</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Oh, no, no. I’m not going to kill you,” Will whispered, “I will hurt you, but I’m not going to kill you.”</i></p><p> </p><p>OR</p><p>On the eve of the discovery of Randall Tier's body in the museum, Hannibal invites Will to his home to dine on their freshly slaughtered kill. Will decides that Hannibal's acts of reciprocity should finally be requited.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the marriage of heaven and hell [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2190213</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>110</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the sneaking serpent walks in mild humility</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Further warning: The "spanking" in this fic is more violent than what the tags suggest. Please proceed with caution if you are not comfortable the use of harsher implements and some real harm being done to someone. Rest assured, however, this is not non-con. Everyone is a consenting adult :)</p><p>Notes on the fic: 1) This work is a follow up to "the just man rages in the wilds." It's not entirely necessary to read it in order to understand this fic, but there are references to occurrences from "the just man" in this fic. 2) The title is from "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell" by William Blake. This is explained in the first fic, but if you want to know more, "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell" is in the public domain. 3) A section of this fic is inspired by a deleted in "Naka-Choko," beginning with Hannibal saying, "I feel it necessary to add..." and ending with Will saying, "I can take care of myself just fine." Scripts can also be found online if you want to read the original lines. </p><p>Okay enough of all the notes and explanations, please enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>THE SNEAKING SERPENT WALKS IN MILD HUMILITY</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sky was just beginning to dim, marking the passage of one full day since Randall Tier had crashed through the window of his home; one moonlight’s sleep since the hunt that had begun in blood-washed snow and ended with the snap of a neck. It had not been so long since Hannibal had helped him drain the blood from the meat and disassemble the boy for his transformation into a beast. Though it had been longer ago than any of these events, Will felt it not been so long since their clash of bodies behind Hannibal’s office door, incited by Hannibal’s instructions to choke him and finished by Hannibal on his knees. If he imagined it all, he could still feel the blood on his hands or Hannibal’s mouth on his flesh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Will walked up the front step to Hannibal’s door, he tilted his head back and gazed at the grey washed clouds. The dome of the sky seemed to reach on forever. His breath billowed up above him, expressing hot and ready from his lips. His fingers were cold around the bottle of whiskey in one hand and the brown paper package in the other. The bite of wintertime nipped at his cheeks. He felt it all intensely, though the world did not come with all its usual edges of oversensitivity. He felt calm. In control. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door creaked open before he could even knock, and Hannibal appeared in the frame, a gracious smile on his lips. His apron was already knotted around his waist over the dark green dress shirt he wore, his hair smoothed perfectly against his skull. Not a soul would guess he’d spent his previous evening dismembering a person, Will thought vaguely with an odd mixture of contempt and jealousy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come in, Will,” Hannibal said warmly, standing aside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although he’d had dinner at Hannibal’s home many times, walking into Hannibal’s home this evening felt different. It felt colder, yet also somehow hotter. The space and all its particles vibrated with life and death. The intimacy of their acts remained, branded on each wall, injected into the very air they breathed. The initial uncertainty and dissociation he’d felt when he’d first presented Randall on Hannibal’s dinner table had sloughed off his shoulders in the wake of his exhibition inside the museum. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Allow me,” Hannibal said, taking the bottle and the package from Will’s hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been Hannibal’s idea to have dinner in lieu of their typical appointment as Hannibal’s office, but it had been Will’s idea to provide the meat. The whiskey was an added bonus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought we might indulge my tastes tonight,” Will said, shrugging his coat off as Hannibal inspected his gifts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve chosen the perfect dish then,” Hannibal said, motioning towards the kitchen. “Come.”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>Will followed Hannibal to the kitchen, gazing at each piece of furniture and corner as though it held new life. The last time he had been here he had borne flesh and blood rather than food and drink. Was it so much different now?  </span></p><p>
  <span>When they entered the kitchen Hannibal placed the brown paper package on the counter and took down two Glencairn glasses from the cabinet. Popping open the bottle, he poured a liberal amount in each and handed one to Will. Will took it slowly, his ring and pinky finger closing around Hannibal’s index for a lingering second before he withdrew, bringing the glass to his lips. Hannibal watched him take the first sip, his eyes glimmering prurient in the half light. Taking his own sip, he held Will’s gaze as he swallowed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A stronger drink than I would typically serve during our conversations,” he said, setting the drink down on the counter with a clink of glass, “however, this is a special occasion.”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>“That it is,” Will replied, taking another sip of the whiskey, letting it burn his insides all the way to his stomach.</span></p><p>
  <span>Hannibal turned to the package on the counter and brought it closer to him with one hand. Tugging the twine loose, he opened the paper and spread out the corners, allowing the meat to glisten in the low lighting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A perfect cut,” He murmured, allowing Will another smile before he took a knife from the cutting board. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he sliced into the flesh, Will could remember the fillet knife in his hand, separating meat from bone. He could recall Hannibal’s voice in his ear, whispering instructions, his fingers touching Will’s wrist when he corrected his motions. Mostly, he remembered Hannibal’s eyes on him, watching him with the quiet reverence that existed only between predators of the same class, a lion watching as the midnight jaguar took down the bounding gazelle. For all of Randall’s evolution, he had not been able to escape the concert of two hunters working in perfect harmony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will watched Hannibal’s smooth movements, and imagined the day he might shrug Hannibal’s hand from his shoulder, when he could turn the knife upon him. For the first time, he imagined he might consume him. When he had sent Matthew Brown to kill Hannibal, he’d assumed death would be enough. Erasing Hannibal’s smudge of existence from the earth had been his only goal. After standing in front of Randall’s displayed corpse, elevated beyond what life or even death could give him, Will thought he might finally understand why Hannibal ate the pigs that snorted and rutted aimlessly around his feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How will you transform him?” Will asked quietly, matching Hannibal’s gaze when they sparked with pleasant surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are making le frésinat,” Hannibal replied, his tone infused with satisfaction, “It’s a  rustic dish from the Tarn region of France. I thought of your not so dissimilar upbringing. Simple evenings with dad, dining on fish and potatoes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will nodded, sliding one hand into his pocket as he circled around the island slowly. “Training my tastes? Starting off small…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal smiled as he began to roughly cube the meat. “The dish relies on simple, but wonderfully savory flavors. Pork seared in duck fat and potatoes roasted to perfection. I think we will both be satisfied.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we’re not already,” Will added as he stopped to study a painting of a small dog that sat on the shelving between cabinets. His paw rested on a plush footstool, his expression almost mischievous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed,” Hannibal replied. “Le frésinat was traditionally served the day after a pig slaughter as a celebration with those who assisted you in providing meat for your table.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will turned back to him, his gaze heavy on Hannibal’s shoulders and the dance of his hands with the knife. Hunger gnawed in his stomach, a sort of hunger that reached past physicality to the core of his being. He’d felt it standing before Randall Tier’s body in the museum, playing inspector. What he had seen behind his eyes Jack would never know. Jack knew enough, a version of events that would keep him satisfied. Hannibal knew enough that it would keep him searching for more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then this is a celebration for both of us,” Will said, tracing his steps back across the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Hannibal nodded, taking a second knife from the block after he had rinsed his hands. “Dice the onion while you wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will took the knife, feeling the weight of it in his palm. For all intents and purposes, he could use it right now, most likely get in a slash or two before Hannibal could react, but when he looked up at Hannibal’s back, a gush of moisture filled his mouth instead, a preemptive watering of his senses for something more than blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The memory of what had occurred the last time he had been in Hannibal’s office washed over him, too strong for the scant, pitiful barriers he’d erected. Hannibal’s pleasure-stricken face came to life inside his mind, the way he had fallen to his knees, mouth open and gaping. Will remembered feeling fear then, clinging onto the power that he’d felt when he had forced Hannibal to the ground and filled his mouth with the surging expression of his body. He’d felt convinced that his desire to dominate Hannibal and what had occurred could be two separate events. He’d wanted to believe that one had only been a consequence of the other, not a direct correlation, need and action contingent upon one another. He wasn’t so sure any longer; he wasn’t sure he cared to make the distinction. The blurring of hatred and desire felt pleasant, a small dose of what he’d felt when he had beaten Randall. He could feed himself forever off sips of Hannibal’s sweet juices. They could feed each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gripping the knife, Will peeled the onion and began to slice, cutting through white flesh and foamy extract. At any other point in time, he might’ve been scrambling to compress and suffocate the overwhelming desires and emotions, but instead of his hands trembling, he felt steady. The knife cut straight and even, dividing without hesitancy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel it necessary to add that in the midst of our celebration, we must not forget ourselves and become careless,” Hannibal’s words jarred him, ripping him away from the memory and his inner feeling of contentment and satisfaction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal had finished slicing the meat and he was moving it to the pan, inciting a loud hiss as the meat met the duck fat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Meaning?” Will asked, picking up the whiskey glass and taking a harsh gulp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Your confidence at the crime scene was brazing,” Hannibal said as he stirred. “You are feeling the effects of your becoming. You are feeling empowered by it. At times, such a power can crush all sense of danger.”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>Will frowned and began to cut again. “Jack won’t suspect me again so soon. Not after he was so wrong about me last time.”</span></p><p>
  <span>“Even so… It's a dangerous game, betting that you will not be caught by virtue of past mistakes. It’s best to remain two steps ahead of your partner on such a board of wits,” Hannibal said, turning from the stove and wiping his hands slowly on the apron.</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>“If that is true then I should have disposed of the body in a way that not even the FBI could find,” Will said as he finished chopping the onion. </span></p><p>
  <span>“You had every chance to make that choice,” Hannibal agreed, stepping back to the island. “Now the potatoes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushed a bowl of cleaned, golden potatoes across the island to Will, his gaze dark with intent. Will paused, his fingers tight around the knife. If he had all the chances to make choices, he would’ve made the choice to march around the island and put Hannibal back in his place, on his knees with Will’s cock in his mouth. He swallowed and pushed away the image in exchange for taking the bowl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were the one who suggested I should find a way to repay him,” Will said, taking one of the potatoes out of the bowl and feeling it in his hand. “You said that it would be better for him to be commemorated.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I only said that you owe him a debt.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Same thing,” Will replied, chunking the potatoes harshly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew Hannibal’s routine. He twisted and manipulated those in a vulnerable position and then removed himself from the situation, painting himself as a pearly white saint. Will wanted him desecrated and dirty. It was only fair after what Hannibal had done to him. Further contemplation could only lead him towards the conclusion that he was fully justified in whatever fate he planned for Hannibal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are a bird leaving the nest, but a bird that has just learned to fly is still vulnerable.”  Hannibal's voice had taken on a softer tone, one that scratched with irritation against Will’s burgeoning senses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can take care of myself just fine,” Will chopped another potato jaggedly, his eyes fixed on the separating flesh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal hesitated before stepping around the island. Will stopped cutting, his fingers remaining taut around the knife handle as Hannibal hovered at his elbow. Will glanced over at him slowly, feeling the simmer in belly as surely as he heard the meat simmering in the pot. Hannibal looked almost gentle in this light, the harsh edges of his demeanor and the sculpted visage of his face smoothed to quiet concern. How quickly he could flip that switch, Will thought. How easily he could change his appearance as he needed for his own twisted plans. Will walled up the part of him that would be moved by such a display for it was certainly false.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would not stifle you,” Hannibal said, his fingers touching Will’s jaw slowly before settling behind his ear. “The bars of the Baltimore State Hospital for Criminally Insane once freed your constraints and allowed you to act fully on your impulses, but I doubt a second time would produce the same result.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will’s jaw clenched at the contact, his skin sparking hot beneath the sensations of Hannibal’s fingers and the herbed, savory smell that lingered on his flesh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to burn the meat,” he said darkly, turning his face away from Hannibal’s touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s fingers remained poised in the air for a moment before he let his hand fall. He seemed likely to speak again, but then went quietly to the stovetop. Silence befell them for a long moment with only the crackle of the meat and the thunk of the knife to interrupt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Hannibal’s sense of hearing had been as elevated as his sense of smell, Will imagined that he might’ve been able to detect the sound of Will’s heart thundering against his ribs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think I’ll try to kill you again?” Will asked, staring at the taut lines of his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d struck a tenuous balance when Will had presented Randall on Hannibal’s dining room table. Even steven. For now. Reciprocity, however, could be never-ending, one action begetting a reaction and so on until they could no longer discern tit from tat. Hannibal’s mention of the BSHCI teased the conversation with illusions to how Will had commanded his death from behind bars, and in return, how Hannibal had sent Randall to kill him. What act of reciprocity would Will now return upon Hannibal’s shoulders? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s head lifted at the question, the back of his neck tensing and releasing. “You admitted that you fantasized about it when you killed Randall. If your previous behavior is any indication, your fantasies often become reality.”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>“I fantasized about hurting you.” Will corrected sharply, and he knew his voice would’ve been tremulous if not for the surge of adrenaline in his veins. </span></p><p>
  <span>“Which would you like more?” Hannibal asked, turning the meat slowly in the pan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Killing you right now doesn’t serve my purpose… or my needs.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what needs are those?” Hannibal's gaze flicked over his shoulder, holding Will’s dark one across the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The ones you cultivated in me,” Will replied, his voice so low he almost couldn’t recognize the vibrations in his ears; but he knew it was his voice. It was his desire pounding through his veins, the desire to corrupt, obliterate, and punish. It was his hunger reflected in Hannibal’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a taste for it now,” Hannibal replied, his composure needled with arousal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His body turned, hips angled towards Will with the evidence of his desire burgeoning beneath the cover of the apron. He held a fork, speared through with meat, sparkling with fat and flavor</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come.” Hannibal’s command was gravelly and dark.  “Come taste what you’ve created.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will uncurled his fingers from the knife, and listened to it clank dully against the cutting board. The glands in his mouth were overflowing again, and he could almost sense the flavor on his tongue from smell alone. When he moved, the influence of the whiskey made his head sway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He circled the edge of the island, bringing himself dangerously close to Hannibal. Hannibal’s half-lidded gaze rested on his mouth as he lifted the fork between them. The sizzling meat brushed against his lower lip, and he closed his eyes, surrendering temporarily as Hannibal brought the piece to his mouth. Will stretched his lips open wider as the hot, plush chunk dropped against his tongue. Straight from the pan, it burned, duck fat and blood bursting against the inside of his mouth, but he almost could not feel the pain. He bit down, and flavor soared, taking his senses higher. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His lids opened languidly as he chewed, and Hannibal’s titillated expression came into view. A buzz filled his ears as Hannibal speared another piece, seemingly prepared to forget the rest of the dish in exchange for hand-feeding Randall’s tenderized shoulder to him. His lips were red in the low lighting, parted as if to mimic and experience the euphoria of Will ingesting the man who tried to kill him. His neck was flushed where the top button of his shirt was open, and Will drew his eyes along the pulse of his neck as he swallowed the meat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The visuals brought the memory of Hannibal’s mouth around his cock tumbling back. Though he knew he wasn’t nearly drunk enough, he put the blame upon the blazing warmth of whiskey in his stomach for the way his body responded. His pants tightened painfully at his crotch, and he no longer felt the hunger in his belly, but in his entire being. The all too familiar buzz of his senses grew to a screech in his ears as visions of what he longed to do to the man before cascaded across his mind with hot, seeking fingers. He could feel them digging into the creases and contours of his brain, kneading him towards a complete collapse of restraint. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moved suddenly with shocking clarity and precision, acting from the part of his brain that reconstructed violence and depravity. Knocking the fork from Hannibal’s hand, Will lunged into him, lips curled back. Fingers sank into hair, and his teeth sank into flesh. The taste of Hannibal’s pulse filled his mouth, and he could feel his jaw close to breaking skin. He was almost as tender as the meat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s breath expelled roughly from his throat, his fingers locking into Will’s hair as he attempted to manage Will’s movements. Will surged into him, pushing him into the sharp, cold surface of the stainless steel refrigerator. The force expelled another rush of air from Hannibal’s mouth, followed by a strained grunt. Will pressed into him, his knee wedging between Hannibal’s thigh to pin him to the refrigerator. His teeth dug in harder, and copper tantalized his taste buds. He suctioned it away, chasing the whiskey and Randall down with the taste of blood and flesh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> When he pulled back, mouth painted liquid red, Hannibal’s head was tilted back against the refrigerator, his neck stretched open to the assault of Will’s mouth. The mark he’d left on him was livid, threatening purple and black. The imprint of his teeth was sharp against his pale throat in the glow of the kitchen. Below, Will’s thigh ground tight against Hannibal’s swollen cock and balls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will dragged his palm down out of Hannibal’s hair and wrapped his fingers deliberately around his throat. Hannibal’s eyes cracked open, a short, husky exhale leaving his lips as Will pressed his grip tight beneath his jaw. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re learning,” Hannibal whispered, his voice slightly mangled. “No instructions needed this time.”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Shut your mouth,” Will hissed, pushing Hannibal’s head back against the fridge with a dull thud. “I think we established last time that your tongue isn’t for talking.”</span></p><p>
  <span>The rise and fall of Hannibal’s chest increased incrementally, a flush of arousal climbing up from his neck to his cheeks. Will dragged his thumb up the curve of Hannibal’s jawline, chasing after blood and infusions of desire. His ascent reached Hannibal’s mouth, and he smeared the lower lip open, pressing his thumb to the row of bottom teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to do as I say,” he whispered. “The ball is in my court now.”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Another act of reciprocity?” Hannibal’s voice was labored and breathless, his lips wet around Will’s finger.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Call it whatever you want. I call it giving you what you deserve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you plan to do with me, Will?” Hannibal asked, chin tilting down against Will’s hand, almost in encouragement. “If you plan on trying to kill me, you might’ve brought the knife.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, no. I’m not going to kill you,” Will whispered, taking his hand suddenly from Hannibal’s throat. “I will hurt you, but I’m not going to kill you.”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>Hannibal’s eyes flashed in the low lighting, his cock giving a dull throb against Will’s leg.</span></p><p>
  <span> Will removed his leg as well, confident that Hannibal would not fight him. If past behavior were any indication, as Hannibal had said, Will could trust that Hannibal would let himself be defiled for his own debased pleasure. Will would use those masochistic tendencies to his own advantage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal touched his throat gingerly, his fingers coming away with blood. His pupils pulsed to full blackness as he studied the damage Will had done to him before taking his fingertips in his mouth and sucking it away. Will clenched his teeth as his own cock leapt at the stitched barriers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal turned to the stove and turned it off, setting the pan aside with the still sizzling meat. He removed his apron slowly and folded it neatly, lying it on the counter with the forgotten onions and potatoes. Without the cover of the apron, his erection strained against his pants with obscene arousal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It's not the first time you’ve threatened me in a kitchen.” Hannibal noted, smoothing his hand over the white cloth, making it clean of wrinkles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think this will end with a blowjob on the kitchen floor?” Will asked, stepping closer to Hannibal’s back in slow, deliberate movements. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s shoulder blades flexed, and he turned to gaze at Will, his lids heavy, cheeks ruddy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could never predict your intentions from moment to moment.”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>“I don’t want you in the kitchen.” Will whispered, stepping closer until Hannibal’s body was once more trapped between him and a piece of kitchen furniture. “We’re much beyond confrontations in the same room where you cook people. No, I want it more intimate than that. I want you on the same sheets you sleep at night, where you dream your twisted little dreams… where you think you’re safe.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s chest strained against the buttons of his shirt, and his eyes were drawn to Will’s mouth, full lips parted and hungry for the clash of teeth and tongue. He would not get it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will stepped back from him suddenly, removing the temptation of tangled bodies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go.” He ordered, thrusting his hand towards the exit of the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal hesitated for only a moment, enough to tease Will with the possibility of his refusal, but then he straightened.  His composure clung to him like a half-finished suit, barely strung together by needles and pins as he turned towards the doorway. His compliance sent a rush of relief through Will’s veins, and he realized he had been holding his tension tight. The release made his hands tremble and his head throb with a surge of realized pleasure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clenching his hands back into fists, he followed Hannibal out of the kitchen. The darkness of the hall swallowed them, and he followed the pale reflection of the back of Hannibal’s neck and the sound of his heavy breathing against the walls. Finally, Hannibal stopped at the door to his bedroom with Will mere inches from his back. When he pushed the door open and entered, Will seized upon him. He would waste little time getting Hannibal into the position that wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sinking his fingers into the hair at the back of Hannibal’s head, Will rushed him to the bed and pushed him down into the sheets facefirst. Climbing on top of him, he pressed one half of Hannibal’s face hard into the mattress and bent over him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is how I want you,” he whispered, his voice sharp, breath hot against Hannibal’s ear. “You don’t even get to look at me, do you understand?”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>Hannibal’s breath was heavy out of the corner of his mouth that was unobstructed. Below Will, his hips rolled slowly, nursing the ache of his body with the rasp of the bedsheets and pressure of Will’s thighs. </span></p><p>
  <span>“Say you understand,” Will ordered, giving his head another hard push into the mattress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand,” Hannibal repeated, his voice laced with arousal and bare threads of poise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will released his head sharply and slid down his body. Pushing his hand beneath Hannibal’s hips, he released the button and zipper of his trousers. The swell of Hannibal’s arousal was hot against his palm, pressing with need against the remaining thin barrier of his boxers. Hannibal’s hips shuddered down against the fleeting touch, but Will snatched his hand away before he could derive too much pleasure from the brief contact. Tucking his fingers beneath the waistband of the pants and boxers together, Will jerked them down until they bunched at mid-thigh, leaving his ass exposed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will stood back, straddling Hannibal’s legs as they dangled over the edge of the bed. He examined the display before him, considering how bloodied and bruised Hannibal’s tender flesh would be once he was done with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal laid still, his fingers bunched into sheets. His ribs were expanding sharply against the tight material of his dress shirt and small patches of moisture were beginning to appear beneath his arms and between his shoulder blades. Will could feel his own perspiration clinging to his flesh, sprouting from his pores with each passing second of power he held over the man beneath him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All we need is in the drawer.” Hannibal said at last into the bracing silence, his voice punctuated with breathless arousal. “Right side of the bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will swung his leg over Hannibal’s body and sauntered around the opposite side of the bed. Hannibal lifted his head from the mattress, his gaze intent on Will as he watched him pull the drawer of the bedside table open slowly. The contents were arranged precisely. Among them were condoms and lubricant, set so neatly as if their uses were as appropriate as an anatomy textbook on the shelf. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will felt a smile on his lips. He’d indulged Hannibal’s interruptions enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slammed the door shut suddenly with his knee, causing a flicker of surprise and confusion to flash across Hannibal’s expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You keep forgetting that I said I wanted to hurt you.” Will said, walking slowly back towards the other side of the bed. “You still think I’m going to fuck you, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s silence was deafening, making up for his lack of words with the weight that it carried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will began to unbutton his shirt, knowing Hannibal still watched him. He hadn’t obeyed Will’s last command not to look and had continuously disobeyed his orders not to speak. Will had allowed him these infractions for now because it wouldn’t matter in a few moments. He wouldn’t be able to look or speak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ripped his shirt tails from his pants as he forcefully pulled back the shirt from his shoulders. It sailed to the ground, crumpling at the end of the bed where Hannibal could watch it's descent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Straddling Hannibal’s legs once more, Will lowered his hand to his belt buckle, stroking the gleaming metal. Hannibal’s gaze tracked along the edge of the bed then up over his shoulder. He met Will’s eyes for half a moment before his line of sight dropped. His brow creased, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. The teeming arousal still clung to his cheeks in bright swatches of red, but he seemed utterly mute, silenced by Will’s abrupt departure from his expectations. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will watched his face as he pulled the lip of the belt open and released the prongs. The buckle slipped away from leather, and Will gripped the metal, feeling the cold sear and sharp feel of it in his palm. He snapped the belt sharply from the loops, causing it to whistle and arch through the air, inches above Hannibal’s flesh. Hannibal flinched, almost imperceptibly, his ribcage straining harder against cloth and stitching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know pain until you’ve had a leather belt straight to your bare ass,” Will advised him, his voice low and steady. The belt dangled against the mattress, lying ready against the sheets like a snake waiting in the grass. “It’s like fire straight to your bones. It can make you bleed if you take enough.<em> If</em> </span>
  <span>you can take it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will…” Hannibal’s voice was halting, holding a tremulous quality that Will had not heard outside of this moment, and it made his stomach clench in pleasure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You <em>will </em></span>
  <span>bruise,” Will whispered, wrapping the belt slowly around his hand with one twisting motion. “Make no mistake about that. You’re not getting up from this bed until you’re black and blue.”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Would you like me to scream as well?” Hannibal asked, his bravado tenuous and breathless. </span></p><p>
  <span>“If you think it will do you any good,” Will said, dragging the belt slowly across the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It slithered over Hannibal’s naked buttocks, teasing waiting flesh with the threat of pain and agony. Hannibal’s lids fluttered, but he did not move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put your head down,” Will whispered as he traced the belt back across Hannibal’s thigh in the opposite direction. “Close your eyes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s face dropped into the sheets, his ass clenching slightly in response to the titillation of the belt. Will could almost see the gooseflesh washing across the backs of his thighs and buttocks, and he wondered how hard Hannibal was, if the threat of flesh-breaking punishment had doused his cock at all. He imagined that if he flipped him over he would be just as thick and throbbing as he had been in the kitchen, if not more so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will pulled the belt back and it arched over his shoulder, dangling behind him as he let Hannibal sit in discomfort for a moment. The dread should be part of his punishment, a penance for all of the nights Will had spent tossing and turning with fear and apprehension. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At last, he couldn’t wait any longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swung, lashing the belt in a hissing twist through the air. The sound of leather meeting flesh cracked through the air. A bloodthirsty welt bloomed across Hannibal’s ass and his entire being seized. His fists clenched into the sheets, dragging them tight against his face to muffle what Will could only imagine was a cry of pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s worse than you thought, isn’t it?” he questioned softly as Hannibal’s body trembled beneath him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal did not -- or could not -- answer him, but it did not matter. Will said it not to hear his response, but to let him know he could not hide his agony, not from Will’s discerning gaze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lunged again, laying the strap in a harsh line across Hannibal’s flushing backside. This time, Hannibal’s stiffened body only flinched as he attempted to manage the pain. The muted reaction only made Will want to drive the pain out of him harder, breaking him of his well-constructed facade of endless, gracious aplomb. He wanted him weak and writhing in pain, the suffering apparent in his eyes and every inch of his body. When he lashed him again, he did not stop at one. His intent was securely in his mind and trembled in the hand that now clenched the belt buckle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The crack of the belt split the silence, repeating before the reverberations had even become an echo. Red, angry flesh swelled beneath the unrelenting punishment, stripes of pain slashing themselves across skin that had once been flawless ivory. Hannibal remained achingly still, his head buried obediently in the sheets. His shoulders and neck, however, were taut and trembling, his toes digging into the rug at their feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five lashes had turned into ten, then more that Will had not counted. Counting did not matter. Hannibal’s sins were uncountable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, the belt dangled beside him in his fist, and he could hear his breathing distorted in his ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll want it to stop,” Will said, his voice ragged with striations of pleasure and the meting out of a long-awaited punishment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s head shifted down against the sheets, and Will could hear him attempting to breath evenly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me you want it to stop,” Will breathed, trailing the belt across Hannibal’s flesh once more, caressing the marks he’d made with the implement of torture that threatened more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s shoulders tightened, the tension rippling down to the dimples just above his buttocks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say it,” Will encouraged softly, stopping when the belt lay across the width of his ass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want it to stop.” Hannibal finally whispered, the strain evident in the breathlessness and the barely contained tremor of his voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too bad it isn’t up to you,” Will said, slinging the belt back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s head dropped back down and his body arched up as Will laid the belt harshly across his ass, eliciting a fresh red brand on his aching flesh. He did not cry out, but the curve of his back and the tremble that went through his body betrayed the effect that the lashing had on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will smiled tightly and punished him again, striking low, just above his thighs. Hannibal’s elbows dug into the sheets, his hips jerking down. A low, strained moan escaped his lips, the first sign that he was beginning to lose control of his vocal faculties. Will took advantage of the weakness, interrupting the sound with another crack of the belt across his ass. A groan exploded from Hannibal’s lips, a pent up cry that sounded more strangled than clear and plaintive. Wielding the belt, Will pushed him towards unfettered sobs of anguish and twisted pleasure. He struck him half a dozen more times until he was struggling to remain on the bed, his feet digging into the floor, elbows set in the mattress, his back curved up. He was almost bending over the bed in his struggle to remain in place, and his pants and boxers had become crumped at his feet. Will thought he might be impressed if not for the circumstances that had brought them here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get back down,” he ordered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He barely gave Hannibal a moment to obey before he sank his fingers into his hair and pushed him down against the sheets. Moving to Hannibal’s left side, he dug his knee into Hannibal’s lower back, pinning him in place like a fish writhing on his hook. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, this is where things get truly painful,” Will murmured, tracing his fingers down from Hannibal’s hair to his neck and then along the dip of his spine until he quivered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel the sweat on Hannibal’s flesh, could feel the sickly sweet haze of pain and pleasure radiating off of him. His own erection ached in his pants, painfully hard and leaking arousal into the cotton of his boxers. He wanted to take Hannibal’s afflicted flesh into his mouth once more and taste the glaze of inflammation and agony, but he hadn’t yet drawn blood. When he touched him again, he wanted it to be slick with coppery ejaculation and the smell of violent longing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pressing his knee into Hannibal’s back, he angled the belt across his ass. The new position brought the belt more fully across his flesh, striking both buttocks and curling around his hip. He whipped him again, battering his already aching flesh and forcing further grunts and groans from Hannibal’s lips. The original welts were puffy, the edges red and blistering as new ones overlaid the older wounds. Will was just beginning to see the bruises that he had longed for forming, and he felt a shudder of pleasure go through him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d like it if I fucked you right now, wouldn’t you?” he questioned, dragging the belt in a slow motion across his beaten flesh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s breathing picked up, an indication that the answer was</span>
</p><p>
  <span> and that it had been for some time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Answer me,” Will ordered, gazing at the back of Hannibal's head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a fractured silence for a moment before he managed to answer in a husky voice, “Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you fuck yourself to the thought of that when I left your office last time, <em>Doctor</em></span>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal hesitated once more and Will licked him with the belt, causing him to jar beneath Will’s knee. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Answer me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A moan filtered through the sheets that Hannibal had bunched against his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will spread his hand up Hannibal’s back and fit his fingers into hair once more. He jerked Hannibal’s head back, forcing him to expel his vocalizations into the air instead of the protection of the mattress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you fuck yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s lids were fluttering, his lips trembling. When he spoke his voice was ragged, “No… I… I am just as you left me.”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>Will stared at him for a moment, his stomach roiling, his cock pulsing between his legs. Below him, Hannibal ground his hips slowly against the mattress where his engorged cock was trapped beneath the pressure of his and Will’s bodies. His teeth tucked over his lower lip and he groaned softly as he tortured himself with drag of the silken sheets. </span></p><p>
  <span>For half a moment, Will almost forgot the belt and pushed Hannibal to the ground. The velvet allure of his mouth was intensely tempting following the confession, but Will could not comply. It was what Hannibal wanted. He wanted to repeat what he’d done inside his office and manipulate Will into doing exactly as he pleased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will opened his eyes and pushed Hannibal’s head away forcefully. He grabbed his hip just below the pressure of his knee and ground out, “Lie still. Don’t think you’re getting out of this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The motion of Hannibal’s hips slowed, but did not stop, moving into deliberate jerks of his hips. His punished ass arched and clenched, and his testicles throbbed with protracted desire between his trembling thighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop. Right now,” Will ordered, his hand sliding from Hannibal’s hip to forcefully grab his bruised ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal sucked in a sharp breath as Will’s fingers closed around his beaten flesh. The inhale was followed by a low moan of pleasure and pain, but he sank against the sheets, his hips still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will fingers slipped closer the cleft of his ass as he roughly massaged Hannibal’s aching flesh. The heat from the core his body radiated from him, enticing Will to touch him if only for a moment. He let his fingers slide between the swells of Hannibal’s cheeks, and he felt Hannibal go still, more still than before as though he held his breath in anticipation. He pressed his middle finger to the clench of his hole, drawing tight circles around the puckered flesh. Hannibal drew a clipped, shallow breath, his hips lifting slightly to gain further satisfaction. His head dug further into the cradle of his arms, his body clenching and relaxing in conflicted pulses. His muscles were seized tight from the pain, but beneath Will’s ministrations, he opened back up, all too desperate to receive any part of him into his body. His tiny movements evolved into lustful, jagged circles of hips, and Will could hear him panting raggedly. His torment curled the corners of Will’s mouth, and he let him rut fruitless against his hand for several more moments until his finger pushed in. Without any lubricant, Will imagined that it stung, but Hannibal seemed willing to endure it as his body shuddered and clenched around the single digit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will…” His voice was blown out with a mixture of heightened agony and pleasure. “I… I can’t… I’ll…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll what?” Will whispered as his finger inched deeper against dry, clenching flesh to the hot slickness of his insides. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s hips arched up, trembles rippling up and down his spine. </span>
</p><p><span>“Tell me,” Will encouraged, his tone tinted with a sarcasm that Hannibal would know well. “What do you think you’re going to do?”</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>Hannibal’s fingers flexed in the sheets, crumpling the delicate silk in his perspiring fists. A curse tumbled from his lips, something that was not quite English; but the desperation laced through the foreign tongue betrayed its intent. </span></p><p>
  <span>“If you think I’m going to let you come… you’re wrong,” Will said even as his finger pressed in to the hilt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A low gasp expelled from Hannibal’s throat, his hips rising up as Will’s finger pierced the swollen bulge of his prostate. His next words sounded more like a prayer than a curse, tumbling in sharp, unrecognizable syllables from his failing tongue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to bleed,” Will promised. “There’s no way around that, Hannibal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dragged the belt leisurely over his shoulder, his middle finger still buried inside of Hannibal’s wanton body. When he brought the leather across Hannibal’s unprepared thighs, Hannibal cried out. Somewhere between Will’s finger against his prostate and the belt meeting his flesh, he’d entirely lost control of his composure. His hole wrenched tight around Will’s inserted digit, confessing the extent of his pain and pleasure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will lashed him again, striking just below his own hand. If he caught his own flesh in the crossfire, he did not care. The vice of Hannibal’s trembling passage around his finger was too delicious to deny. He had his fingertip on the true pulse of Hannibal’s desire, and it was squeezing and throbbing harder than he could’ve ever felt at Hannibal’s throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He began to truly flay him, slicing the belt across his backside in an unrelenting torrent of bitter chastening. Each crack of the leather across Hannibal’s flesh produced a new guttural sound or a breathless moan until he was reduced to a whimpering, writhing mess. All pretenses of self-control seemed to have slid away from his grasp, the cord cut with one touch of Will’s finger to his hot, swimming insides. He lurched beneath Will’s knee, an ineffectual measure to escape the brutal reckoning of the belt in Will’s fist. Sweat began to soak his hairline, droplets rising across the plane of his back like dew on the fresh morning grass. His buttocks were bursting with color and inflammation, blood rising closer to the skin with each new welt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At last, the belt arched back and blood flung from the cling of the leather, spraying across Hannibal’s carpet like the crime scene of a vicious stabbing. A droplet landed on Will’s cheek and pleasure charged through his ears like the sound of a stampede. His cock seized violently in his pants, threatening him with his own loss of control. He could hear his breathing in his head, raspy and loud, punctuated by the thud of his heart, and his muscles were burning with exertion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A growl ripped from his throat as he brought the belt down with a sickly smack against Hannibal’s bloodied flesh, creating fresh lacerations. Hannibal’s fingers clawed into the mattress, his hips twisting helplessly beneath the weight of Will’s body. He flopped like a wounded animal as Will lashed three new bloody lines across his buttocks, and finally an intelligible word expelled from his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will, please!” he cried out, his voice utterly shattered in a way that broke Will from his tunnelled vision.</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>The belt dangled from his hand, still at last, speckled with Hannibal’s blood. His fist was shaking around the leather and he suddenly realized that it wasn’t just his fist, but his entire body. </span></p><p>
  <span>“Please?” Will rasped, his voice garbled with the high of adrenaline and rage-fueled desire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s head lifted from the sheets as Will slid his knee off Hannibal’s back and balanced it on the bed beside him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please…” Hannibal repeated, his tone just as mutilated as his flesh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes were glistening and punished to a submissive softness, his cheeks blotched with color and streaked with moisture. He was utterly broken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The belt dropped from Will’s hand, clanking against the floor with dull thud. He came down upon him suddenly, and Hannibal’s neck stretched open to greet Will’s mouth. He sighed out beneath Will, his skin quaking and oversensitized. Will pressed his fingers into Hannibal’s sweat-stained hair and closed his lips around equally salty flesh. In his state of heightened pleasure, he thought he tasted even sweeter than he had in the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s fingers caught his in the midst of the ruined sheets, tangling tight over top Will’s knuckles. He tried to turn towards Will, but Will sucked off his neck and whispered, “Stay right where you are.”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>Straightening on his knees above him, Will stroked his fingers roughly through Hannibal’s hair before he released him and climbed off the bed. Hannibal’s shimmering gaze followed him across the mattress to the drawer that Will had slammed shut until this moment. Will yanked it open and stared down at the condoms and lube, his actions slowing for the first time since he had entered the room. He weighed his choices, but it didn’t come with the usual headache of making the right one. There was no right, he thought. There was only this fate, circling around them again and again. He could only stave it off for so long, and he would rather accept it when he held the position of dominance.</span></p><p>
  <span>Grabbing the box of condoms from the drawer, he let Hannibal watch as he plucked one from the box and dropped it back inside. Hannibal’s breath audibly quickened, and he shifted on the bed, kicking his pants and boxers to the floor and spreading his legs apart. Will snatched the bottle of lube and slammed the drawer shut once more. Clutching the bottle in his fist, he circled back around the bed until he stood behind Hannibal’s battered ass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s gaze followed him still, watching intently over his shoulder as Will thumbed open the button of his pants and dragged the zipper down with a hiss in the silence. He tossed the lube to the bed as his pants crumpled at his feet, and he hooked his fingers in the waistband of his boxers. His cock throbbed in swatches of angry red and stripes of purpled veins, his head swollen past the cling of foreskin as it came free. Hannibal’s sides expanded sharply at the sight of him, and Will was half-tempted to turn him over and fuck his face again. They were far past a rushed and desperate blowjob behind closed doors, however, and what Will wanted required far more than a simple push of his cock into Hannibal’s wet and pliant lips. He wanted to destroy what was left of Hannibal’s resolve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snatched the condom from the bed and began to tear it open, his fingers steady.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will…” Hannibal whispered huskily, drawing Will’s gaze to him. His lashes fluttered and his tongue wet his lips before he whispered, “Don’t use that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will’s fingers stilled around the wrapper, and he swayed between continuing and complying to Hannibal’s wishes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” he questioned instead, prowling closer to him until he could press a knee between Hannibal’s thighs on the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s gaze was half-lidded and heavy, pupils black. “I want to feel you. All of you.”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>Will swallowed hard, and he could feel his cock pulsing with tell-tale arousal. With all barriers removed, Hannibal could see it too. He leaned onto the bed, planting his hands on either side of Hannibal’s head. His hips dipped down, and his cock pressed to the cleft of Hannibal’s ass. Pleasure reared through him at the simple brush of flesh, and he lowered his mouth to Hannibal’s ear once more to hide the expression of exquisite pleasure that flashed across his face.</span></p><p>
  <span>“You want me to come in you, don’t you?” he rasped in Hannibal’s ear, his hips grinding down once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s nod was ragged, his breathing unsteady, and desire blared through Will’s head with shattering decibels. He grabbed the lube from the bed beside them and pulled back. His once steady hands were quaking as he forced the lid open. The cold, gelatinous liquid squelched on his fingers, but he could only clench it in his fist for warmth for a moment before he slathered it over his aching flesh. His own touch was nearly too much to bear, and he had to grit his teeth to hold back a groan. He squeezed the bottle again, pouring out enough to soak Hannibal’s trembling hole and more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Below him, Hannibal was pulling his legs up, tucking them to his heaving sides and leaving his buttocks splayed open for the touch of Will’s hands and body. His tortured flesh was marked with bruises and contusions, bright spots of blood lining each one. A few had welled up and dribbled down the backs of his thighs, leaving him painted in streaks of glorious crimson. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will bent back over him, his fingers dipping between Hannibal’s parted ass cheeks. At his touch, slicked with lubricant, Hannibal hitched in a groan, his head sinking down between his arms. His body was remarkably lax, still hungry from Will’s previous, harsh intrusions. Will’s paired fingers pressed past the barely taut ring of muscle to his tremble passage, fucking into him with the wet guide of the lube. Hannibal trembled beneath him, hips arching as he attempted to relax himself faster, groaning when Will twisted and pounded his digits into his tender flesh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many times have you imagined this?” Will asked huskily, his own voice on the verge of a groan as Hannibal’s muscles released enough to the intrusion of a third finger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“T-too many….” Hannibal panted, “to count…”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>Will bit down hard on his lower lip to silence a groan and pressed his sweating forehead against Hannibal’s trembling shoulder. His three fingers were pumping into Hannibal’s ass with ease, hitting deep. He could feel the bursting swell of Hannibal’s prostate, could feel the way Hannibal quaked to his very core when he battered it with his fingertips. He might’ve held Hannibal down like this for hours if his own cock hadn’t been screaming for release. He’d already tortured Hannibal to resplendent compliance, and he couldn’t maintain his facade of composure for much longer.</span></p><p>
  <span>He retrieved his fingers with one slick pull, and Hannibal keened into the sheets at the loss of sensation. His breathing was wild, and Will wondered through the haze of pleasure when the last time it was that Hannibal had allowed himself to be pushed so far to the edge, if he ever had at all. He tried to remind himself to ask later, but his thoughts were slipping away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grabbing his cock, he pressed himself to Hannibal’s aching, open entrance. The first push inside sent his body soaring into the atmosphere. The heat and tight clench of Hannibal’s body encased him, sucking him in to the base of his cock. Their swollen testicles met with a smack of flesh, and Will almost collapsed on top of him. Hannibal grabbed his hand once more, his fingers crushing with the height of his pleasure. This time, Will returned the desperate grasp of their hands in the sheets as dizzying arousal careened through every particle of his body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dug his forehead into Hannibal’s shoulder and growled as he forced his hips against Hannibal’s ass once more. The first real thrust made Hannibal cry out as the pain of Will’s hips against his battered ass became apparent. For Will, the sensation of Hannibal’s ass squeezing along the length of his cock was almost too much. He set his mouth against Hannibal’s flesh, biting into tender skin and hard muscle as he thrust against him. Sticky blood married their flesh, and the sound of their disjointed moans and exhales filled the muggy air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will’s legs and arms trembled, burning with exertion as he pounded his cock into Hannibal’s ass with each deliberate movement. Each thrust seemed to break Hannibal a little more, his cries growing looser and high-pitched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will, Will…” He finally panted Will’s name, desperation winding his tone as his back arched and trembled. “I.. I’m going to…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t.” Will growled into his flesh, his hips grinding to a halt. “I want you more desperate than that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal whimpered, a low, pathetic sound that Will might’ve scarcely believed could come out of his typically composed therapist’s mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me see,” he whispered, pushing his hand beneath their connected bodies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal languidly complied, lifting up slightly to allow Will’s hand between his legs. His palm encountered Hannibal’s erection, impossibly hard and leaking pre-cum in desperate spurts. He trembled uncontrollably when Will’s fingers closed around him, his hips arching back, only to seat himself harder on Will’s cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will closed his eyes, pleasure flaring through him as he rubbed his hand along Hannibal’s rigid cock, slick with arousal and sweat. The absolute hardness of his member must’ve been painful, but although Will was impressed that he hadn’t simply unravelled already, he opened his eyes and said softly, “You can wait a little longer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s head sank, his shoulders quaking. For a moment, Will thought he might sob aloud in aroused agony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He released Hannibal’s aching cock and grabbed both of his hips. Straightening, he pulled Hannibal’s bloodied ass up, and thrust into him at a deep angle of penetration. Hannibal’s back arched and his fingers twisted into the sheets, bringing the wrinkled material in a fist to his mouth. His sharp teeth were bared, biting into the silk in a desperate attempt to muffle his desperate cries. Still, his anguished expulsions filtered through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will hissed a sigh through his teeth as he rocked his hips against Hannibal’s ass. He watched with drunken delight as fresh blood rose from his wounds and transferred to Will’s flesh, painting his hips and thighs with streaks of red. Hannibal would not soon forget what Will had done to him.</span>
</p><p><span>He felt Hannibal seizing beneath him, his body tightening down in pre-orgasmic tremors. Will slammed into him hard, driving him forward in the sheets with a ragged cry. He held him there, leaning over him to whisper, “Do not come.”</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>Hannibal trembled, the quaking seeming uncontrollable. He couldn’t speak, his lips moving in silent agony around the bunch of sheets in his mouth. That he had gagged himself only made Will throb harder in pleasure. He was not the only one who was learning quickly. </span></p><p>
  <span>He slid his hand down over Hannibal’s trembling stomach and grasped his cock once more, his fist tight at the base of it as he began to fuck into him again. His hand acted not as an agent of pleasure, but of further torture, holding off Hannibal’s orgasm in the swollen embrace of his balls. He kept his pace steady and deliberate, holding Hannibal at the precipice of climax. Meanwhile, his own pleasure built upon each new denial of completion, making his head swim with the adrenaline and endorphins rushing through his bloodstream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In minutes, Hannibal was whimpering. His cock was convulsing in Will’s grasp, his ass clenching tight with such a fevered desperation that Will almost surrendered to it. Bracing his free hand on Hannibal’s back, he stopped thrusting until the wave of temptation passed. Hannibal groaned into the sheets, his body sinking down as he accepted the new edge of pleasure he was so close to tumbling from. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sweet compliance of his muscles invited Will to fuck into him again, pushing deep into his plush insides. He began to move in long, slow pulses of his hips, grinding his cock into Hannibal’s prostate. His fist was still clenched around Hannibal cock, binding him to tortured pleasure that could not escape. In moments, however, Hannibal seized under him, his hips dipping in suddenly as the tremors began from deep within him where Will’s cock was riding up against his prostate. His muscles drew tight, and began to quake with pleasure even as his cock remained hard and full. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sensation dragged Will into a persuasive embrace of rippling muscle, and he dropped down over Hannibal, desperately pulling his cock from Hannibal’s trembling ass. He pressed his face into Hannibal’s back, breathing heavily as Hannibal slowly came down from the pleasure. When he lapsed beneath Will, moaning in only half-completed pleasure, Will pulled himself upright. Hannibal’s back was arched, his cock still erect and stiff between his spread legs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck…” Will mumbled, his head feeling like a tumbler of sensations and throbbing pleasure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s eyes rolled back towards him, pupils huge and black, glistening with a sheen of desperation. The sheet had fallen from his lips and his voice was eviscerated when he whispered, “I couldn’t…. Will, I couldn’t stop it…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will stared back at him for a moment, his heart thundering in his ears with new, bold waves of desire. He felt swept away with Hannibal’s pitiful expression and his licentiously positioned body, his whimpered confessions and his absolute submission. He’d imagined that Hannibal might eventually begin to struggle for dominance once the strike of the belt became too much for his dignity to endure, but instead, Hannibal had thrown his dignity to wind for Will. He was bowed down, spread out, and at the whims of Will’s wishes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will grabbed Hannibal’s hips suddenly, jarring a gasp from Hannibal’s mouth as his cock nudged hard at his entrance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, you come.” Will demanded, his voice more of a growl than a command. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s lids flew shut, his mouth falling open as Will slammed into him, sending ripples of pleasure through both of their bodies. He grabbed his cock with trembling, desperate fingers, squeezing himself in jagged pulses at the sound of Will’s permission. His hips rocked with new fervor, rutting back to meet Will’s cock and jerking forward to drive his cock into the circle of his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good…” Will rasped, his hips driving into Hannibal’s ass, unrelenting as he pushed them both towards fevered pleasure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The slap of flesh against flesh replaced leather on skin, echoing against the walls in a fresh cacophony of violent fulfillment. The house and all its particles would remember it well as it remembered the intimacy of their dismemberment of Randall and their meal that lay forgotten in the kitchen. Soon it would be frescoed on the walls of both their minds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal came apart first, his muscles locking up as the pleasure took him apart limb by limb. A jagged cry left his lips when he finally convulsed, writhing in final completion. His back undulated like the tide of a river, his hips shuddering and jerking back against Will as his cock jetted release across the shimmering sheets in zealous, copious surges. The pleasure Will had denied him and that he had denied himself finally came bursting forth, and he did not attempt to contain it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The throes of Hannibal’s pleasure pulled Will down after him. He collapsed across Hannibal’s back, his hips quaking as they lost their rhythm to the force of the climax. He dragged his mouth across Hannibal’s shoulders, pressing his own cries into Hannibal’s flesh. He felt his semen filling Hannibal in hot gushes, taking his cock down in a blaze of heat that he could quite easily name as the most pleasurable sensation he’d ever felt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he sank down onto the bed next to Hannibal, the world was already fading into a post-coital haze of drowsiness. Hannibal lay beside him, his face turned towards Will. His expression was open and soft, dewdrops of tears clinging to the corners of his eyes. He reached out slowly and pressed his fingers into Will’s palm. Their fingers fit together and Will knew that in any other moment, he would’ve yanked his hand away. Here, he did not have the strength or the willpower. All his strength went to one squeeze of his fingers over Hannibal’s knuckles. Then, his eyes drifted shut, and he tumbled into sleep to the sound of Hannibal’s soft breathing and the murmur of his mother tongue that he was sure said something about love. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Disorientation gripped Will when he first woke up as he found his body in an unfamiliar bed and an unfamiliar room. Hannibal’s room looked different with swatches of daylight washing across the floor, cutting over furniture and bookcases. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arranging events into order in his mind, Will sat up sharply in the bed. The flood of last night’s events left him with throbbing temples and the cold, winding sensation of conflicting dread and satisfaction. The fact that he had slept in Hannibal’s bed made the dread seize harder on his empty, aching stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He threw back the blanket from his legs, finding himself still naked and peppered with dried bodily fluids. He stared down at the blood that was now brown and cracking on his thighs and hips, gingerly touching the patches of sense memory. Hannibal’s wild sounds of pleasure and the sensation of his body clenching Will’s aching member rushed back to him.  Hot followed cold through his midsection. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced over at the other side of the bed, both relieved and nervous to find it empty. Pulling his legs over the edge of the bed, he stood slowly. His muscles still felt weak and he wondered how long he had slept. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His clothes were tossed haphazardly across the room, a trail of evidence. He snatched up his shirt, boxers, and pants, and began to pull them on. His mind was focused on covering himself and finding Hannibal’s bathroom, perhaps escaping before he even saw the man himself when he heard the slosh of water and the soft notes of Chopin filtering from beneath the door at the opposite side of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will stared at the door for a moment before he crept across the room in only his boxers. As he drew close, he could see that the door was cracked open. Pressed to the frame, he could glimpse inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beyond the door,  Hannibal reclined in the bath, his hair wet and slicked against his head. His eyes were closed, and he was humming softly with the notes. He looked almost peaceful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will pressed his forehead against the doorframe and squeezed his eyes shut. How could he be so at ease? Meanwhile, Will’s discomfort curled through him like a noose ready to tighten at any given moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will?” Hannibal’s voice jarred his eyes open, and he stepped back suddenly from the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rushing across the room, he grabbed his clothes and forcefully pushed his legs into the pants and fought to get his arms into his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will, is that you?” Hannibal called from the bathroom, followed by another slosh of water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will slowed, pressing his eyes shut. He supposed that there was no point in acting as though he wasn’t there now. He swiped hair out of his eyes, attempting to tame the knotted mass of curls on his head before he turned and walked slowly across the room. He reached the door once more and pushed it open with one hand, bracing himself for what was to come. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s eyes were open, his head lifted from its leisurely position. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought I heard you,” he said softly, a smile tilting his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will swallowed, hovering closer. Now that the door was open, he could see the ice cubes floating thickly in the water around Hannibal’s exposed knees and midsection. His chest tightened at the implications. The memory of the belt in his hand and blood flinging across the room like an arterial spray leapt too readily to his mind. He’d acted without any filters for the dark thoughts that seized upon his mind. No forts, no associations to stave off the worst of what his brain could conjure. Even worse, he’d let them creep so close that he hadn’t thought of the consequences. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal seemed to catch the conflict and concern in the shift of Will’s expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your strength was impressive,” he murmured, sliding back down in the water. “I underestimated your ability to draw blood in such a manner.”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>Will stood stiffly in the doorway, his mouth refusing to answer while his mind thundered with overlapping thoughts. </span></p><p>
  <span>“The ice will assist in my ability to walk today,” Hannibal added, a bemused smile on his lips as his lids fluttered closed. “I might otherwise be incapacitated. I do hate to cancel appointments…”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>“You’re…” The beginning of a sentence leapt from Will’s mouth, but he couldn’t find the correct adjective. It was somewhere between infuriating and insane.</span></p><p>
  <span>Hannibal’s eyes cracked open once more, and he regarded Will’s stiff stance in the doorway. His smile softened into a more genuine expression at the sight of Will’s continued discomfort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay a bit longer,” he murmured. “ I’m still capable of cooking breakfast.”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Breakfast?” Will choked out. </span></p><p>
  <span>“If you’d like, we may finish our meal from last night. Le fresinat has traditionally been served at various meal times, breakfast included.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I.. I don’t know…” Will whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you recall, breakfast was the first meal we ever shared together. Is it so different?”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Yes,” Will replied, latching on to his first definitive thought of the morning as he shook his head at the absurdity of Hannibal’s reasoning. “It is different. It’s a world of difference.”</span></p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>Hannibal’s head tilted against the tile. “Why?”</span></p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Because I…” Will licked his lips to chase away dryness and summon words. “What I did to you… How am I supposed to…?”</span></p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Darling Will…” Hannibal murmured, his voice too tender and soft for Will’s level of comfort. “You are a force of nature, of reckoning… But my constitution would have to be much weaker to bend to one simple test of my body.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Grasping the edges of the tub, he stood, water sluicing off the curves of his naked lower half. He turned the latch to let out the water and stepped out of the water. His body seemed softer in the daylight. Will swallowed hard, taking an involuntary step back and averting his eyes to allow him space as Hannibal began to towel off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Hannibal turned, however, Will could not keep his gaze downturned. The welts were apparent, criss-crossing his ass in purple and red, a few striking across his thighs. The inflammation had gone down considerably, but Will knew that it would take weeks for the wounds to heal completely, a fact that Hannibal was no doubt aware of as a former medical professional. That Hannibal considered this a ‘simple test’ of his body both startled and frustrated Will. He couldn’t decide whether he would like Hannibal more or less broken. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are extra towels under the sink,” Hannibal advised him. “You may use the shower if you please. I would suggest it. The contamination of blood is not healthy for your well-being.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know how to clean myself,” Will whispered sharply as he watched Hannibal rub the towel over his head and then knot it around his waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not your capabilities I question,” Hannibal said, smoothing the flop of his towel-dried hair back from his forehead. “I’m simply concerned that in your rush to escape the consequences of your actions that you will not properly care for yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will gritted his teeth, and looked away, but his reflection greeted him in the mirror, making him all the more aware of his situation. His hair was a mess and his cheeks were flushed with varying flashes of humiliation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please,” Hannibal’s tone softened, his fingers touching Will’s elbow with almost unbearable gentility. “Any facilities of my home are always open to you.”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Including the basement?” Will asked, shooting a harsh glance back at him to fight the effects of Hannibal’s soothing voice.</span></p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>Hannibal smiled and turned back towards the mirror. He took a comb from the drawer and began to slick his hair back. “That as well.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Will watched him with a strange mixture of disdain for him and companionship with him. No matter which way he looked at their relationship, he could not separate them now. They were bound by blood and flesh, both violently and romantically, the two twisting together into an indistinguishable blur. He could scarcely begin to think of how he might break them apart aside from completion of his former desires to end Hannibal’s life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As though their thoughts were one as well, Hannibal murmured, “There are places that you have touched which have been known only to me for many years.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will blinked at the sudden, seemingly genuine confession. He watched Hannibal finish combing his hair and then study himself in the mirror. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sharing them again comes with a certain level of discomfort,” he added, finally turning his gaze back towards Will. “If you feel that discomfort, I assure you… You are not alone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will could not craft a response before Hannibal leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheekbone. He smelled fresh again, his skin bearing almost no hints of their previous evening together. His mouth was warm and inviting, and Will felt a new level of disconcertion at the fact that he did not immediately recoil from the physical affection. Hannibal squeezed his arm and slipped past him, leaving Will alone in the bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will begin breakfast preparations, but please do not feel you need to rush,” Hannibal called from the bedroom.</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>Will grabbed the door handle and pressed it closer. Sinking against the surface, he scrubbed his hands over his face. A pressure rested on his chest, threatening him with a tide of emotion if he did not better manage himself. He counted his breaths and forced himself to inhale and exhale evenly. Finally, the palpitations of his heart calmed, and he let his hands slide from his face. </span></p><p>
  <span>Despite his initial desire to escape, he suddenly he could not wait to wash away the blood and sex from his body. He stripped out of his clothing so quickly that he nearly tripped on his pant leg. Going to the shower that stood opposite of the tub, he locked himself inside and turned the water on hot. He nearly scalded his flesh as he scrubbed viciously at the remnants of desire and brutality. Hannibal’s bath products came in smaller bottles and accompanying fancy titles than his own, and he briefly felt nauseous at the thought of smelling like Hannibal for the rest of the day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finished within fifteen minutes and exited the shower, feeling only partially relieved of his discomfort. When he exited the bathroom, he was stopped short in the middle of the room. Hannibal had laid a fresh set of clothes on the bed from his own closet, colored in simple earth tones that he must’ve contemplated upon choosing them. Will stepped closer to the clothing, his fingers reaching out to touch the fine material. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not only would he smell like Hannibal, but he would be dressed like him as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would return home and change immediately, he decided. He was only going to wear these because his own were not fit to put on his body at the moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grudgingly dressing himself in Hannibal’s clothes, he fussed with the fit, rolling up the hems of the trousers and attempting to make the slightly baggy shirt appear less ill-fitting. He didn’t fit into Hannibal’s clothes, and he briefly wondered how he had ever fit into his life at all. He couldn’t imagine any set of events outside of his work for the FBI that would ever bring their worlds into contact, and yet in some ways, it felt pre-determined. The thoughts felt too heavy with meaning, and he banished them from his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Folding up his own clothes, he carried them out into the hall, ignoring the cliche of his situation -- the one night stand that bled into the awkward morning after, leading to showering in each other’s spaces and staying for breakfast. It all felt too intimate and romantic after what he had done to Hannibal last night. His fantasies had been closer to murder than domesticity, yet somehow Hannibal always managed to the situation to his favor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Will really contemplated the events of last night, he was sure that he could find the moments where Hannibal had still manipulated him despite all Will’s efforts to entirely control the situation. He’d felt so in control that he had never questioned whether he might just be entirely out of his mind. As always, Hannibal stood in the shadows, his fingers tied to marionette strings that never let him go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will entered the kitchen the sizzle of meat and the scent of freshly cooked eggs and potatoes. Hannibal was dressed in a creamy white dress shirt and brown and red plaid slacks, no doubt, only one article of a three piece suit he’d yet to don. His sleeves were carefully folded up just beneath his elbows as he stood over the stove. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Will entered, Hannibal turned to him and smiled, “I’m pleased you’ve decided to stay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never said I would,” Will pointed out even as he sat down in the tan, leather chair in the corner of the kitchen, slouching down into the soft cushions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nevertheless,” Hannibal replied as he took down two plates. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He set them on the island and began to plate as steam roiled up from the pans. Will watched with apprehension as Hannibal scooped the meat onto the plate beside the eggs and potatoes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It won’t be the same as last night,” he said as Hannibal finished plating and moved the pans to the sink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No two days are ever identical,” Hannibal agreed, taking the plates from the counter, “Come to the table.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will sighed and pushed himself out of the chair. He laid his clothes down on the abandoned chair and followed Hannibal to the dining room. Suddenly, it seemed that no matter which room of Hannibal’s home he stepped into, he could not escape some memory of what had occurred there. The dining room held the memory of Randall’s body atop the table. The kitchen was marred now too, not only by Hannibal’s sins against humanity, but also by what had occurred there last night. The bedroom, a room which Will had never expected to see, bore the most damning evidence of a relationship he’d tried desperately to destroy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal set the plates on the table and pulled one chair out for Will. Will sat down, irritated by Hannibal’s gentlemanly behavior. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal took his place at the head of the table adjacent to him and picked up his fork and knife with the same pleased expression he always seemed to have when he sat down to a meal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s enough for you that I killed him,” Will observed quietly, gazing down at the meat. “It’s almost like you killed him yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I set events into motion,” Hannibal agreed, taking a bite between his lips and chewing slowly. “In the end, either you or Randall would emerge victorious, depending on your own choices.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if Randall had been victorious?” Will asked, “Would you be eating me now instead?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannibal smiled, “But Randall was not victorious. You were.”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>“But if he had been.”</span></p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>Hannibal set his fork down and patted his mouth with a napkin before he met Will’s eyes, “My faith in you is unmatched, Will. Although I cannot predict the future, I had my faith set upon a certain outcome, and it was fulfilled. To contemplate other outcomes now is a waste of mental effort.” </span></p><p>
  <span>Will stared at him, uncertain of what he was feeling. Hannibal simply would not admit that he would eat him. In a way, he would not admit to facilitating Will’s possible death either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s how you really see me then,” Will whispered, staring down at the plate before him. “Immune to the snakes that slither by.”</span>
</p><p><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Yes,” Hannibal smiled, taking his fork and knife and cutting into the meat. Gesturing to Will’s own plate, he left no further room for discussion. “Eat your breakfast, Will.” </span><span><br/>
<br/>
</span></p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
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